6ix Life and The Healing Power of Bunz.

It’s December 31st. Which means its time to reflect on the past year!!!!! Hoooraaaay.

This year has been a little bit insane. And not just because I’m me. I had one of the biggest changes I’ve ever been through happen this fall – I LIVE WITH A BOY NOW. I know you all knew that, because the last time I wrote was when we were in the midst of the absolutely ridiculous moving process that we endured. But it’s been just over three months, and having a permanent roommate is the best.

I forget to rinse out my chocolate milk glasses, and Cam leaves beard hair in the bathroom sink, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been more excited about a change in my life. There’s something really cool about finally getting your life started, and getting to do that with your favourite person. Cheesy. Yes. Very, very cheesy.

It’s been a great couple of months getting used to eachother and the city. Growing up in the GTA, you sort of always *~*~*dream*~*~* of living in the big city when you grow up, so it’s neat that we’re doing that. There’s a buzz that you just don’t get anywhere else. Y’all can keep your New York, Chicago, Nashville. Toronto is incredible. It’s colder than hell right now (sort of an “always winter and never Christmas” kind of cold), and sometimes people yell at you on the street incoherently about who knows what, but I still don’t think that I’d want to be anywhere else. Except maybe Disney World.

One of my favourite things I’ve gotten into since moving to the 6ix is BUNZ. For those of you who don’t know, this is an app (it started out as a series of groups on Facebook) where you can post items you don’t need anymore, or services/art/goods that your provide, and trade them for other things. It’s every thrifter’s dream. And I love it. It’s a great way to get rid of things that you don’t need or don’t use or don’t fit anymore, and get some value out of them. I’ve been really lucky with some incredible trades.

As many of you know, I’m a pretty intense pack rat. I attach sentimental value to almost everything I own; even clothes. This makes it super difficult for me to get rid of things that I really don’t have space to keep anymore. It’s one of the weirder/more complicated aspects of my mild OCD; the obsession is the fear of losing memories, and so the compulsion is holding onto things that help me remember. Thankfully I’m mostly self aware about this, so I haven’t been slated to star in an episode of Hoarders. It’s something my lovely Mum has been trying to quell since I was old enough to start taking care of and keeping track of my own things. I won’t say she hasn’t made any progress, but it’s been slow and definitely painful – with lots of tears and shouted feelings.

All of this being said, getting rid of things by giving them to someone else that can use them really helps to alleviate the anxiety of parting with my things. While Buns connects me with strangers, it still feels super great to be trading things I love to someone else who will be able to get use out of them, and maybe love them as much as I have. And the cherry on top is receiving something cool in return.

Amongst these sentimentally valuable items, are items of sentimental value that aren’t necessarily good for my mental health for me to keep. And these things are sometimes even more difficult to part with – because reasons. But I cannot even begin to tell you how incredible it has felt to trade them for something else. It’s like having a library book that you should have returned ages ago, and the overdue fees keep piling up and piling up; and you know you should just take it back because then you won’t have to feel bad about it anymore, but life is so busy and you do really like the book… but then you finally bring it back and the librarian tells you that the debt has been taken care of, and you don’t need to worry because you don’t have the book, and it can’t accrue fees anymore. It’s a breath of fresh air, and an empty backpack on the way home.

And parting with things that are important to you doesn’t mean that you don’t care about the person or those memories anymore, at all. It means that you’re putting it where it belongs; in the past. You’re letting go of it, and that’s okay. You’re letting go of the hurt attached to those memories, because you’ve realized that you don’t have to let them hurt you anymore. And that keeping those things aren’t going to take away the hurt – and you shouldn’t keep them because you feel like you need them to remember. They’ll always be there somewhere, tucked under your skin for safe keeping. And sometimes, something else will brush against it, and the skin will part a little and you’ll be able to see it. But it’s just a rash – not a wound.